


the love of my life (when i was young)

by forbiddenquill



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood Friends, F/F, Love Confessions, Time Skips, also dubchaeng needs more angst, i put myself through so much pain for this ghad, they keep missing out on each other FUCK
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:00:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27566392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forbiddenquill/pseuds/forbiddenquill
Summary: At eight, Chaeyoung meets her best friend.Twenty years later, she meets her again.-(or, alternatively, Dahyun and Chaeyoung have always been together until they're not.)
Relationships: Bae Joohyun | Irene/Kim Dahyun, Im Nayeon/Yoo Jeongyeon, Kim Dahyun/Son Chaeyoung, Minatozaki Sana/Son Chaeyoung
Comments: 12
Kudos: 183





	the love of my life (when i was young)

**Author's Note:**

> Commissioned by somebody awesome who wanted it dedicated to another awesome person!!! I'm so happy that you reached out to me for this fic hehe. I really enjoyed writing it and I hope you enjoyed reading it too!!! :D

_Sometimes I go blurry-eyed_

_Small talk and you tell me that you're on fire_

_Lights on and it's black and white, I couldn't stay forever_

_I see the look in your eye and I'm biting my tongue_

_You'd be the love of my love when I was young_

_When the night is over_

_Don't call me up I'm already under_

_I get a little bit alone sometimes and I miss you again_

_I'd be the love of your life inside your head_

_When the night is over_

_Don't call me up I'm already under_

\- [21, Gracie Abrams](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eyX5zUI3oq0)

-

_eight_.

Chaeyoung raises a hand, shields her eyes from the bright sun, and looks around the playground. When the bell rang, the other eight-year-olds quickly decided on what they wanted to do, sculpting sand with their bare hands, chasing after each other around the grassy playground, squealing with joy at a simple game of rock-paper-scissors. There is a light mood in the air, like they're all bouncing on fluffy clouds high up in the blue skies. Chaeyoung has never felt so out of place before. Standing next to the door leading to the second-grade classroom, she shifts her weight and watches the other kids playing. Since she transferred from another school and enrolled later than the rest of her classmates, she is the odd one out in more ways than one. 

"Chaeyoung-ah," Teacher Lee calls out once she pokes her head outside and spots the child sulking near the doorway, "why don't you play with the others?" 

Chaeyoung stares down at her worn down school shoes. Playing with the others would mean running around. Her mother had told her earlier that they couldn't afford a new pair of shoes for her yet so they have to make do. The ones she's wearing right now are already falling apart at the seams. 

"I'm okay, Teacher Lee," Chaeyoung answers with a forcibly bright smile, "I don't feel like playing today." 

Teacher Lee doesn't look too convinced. "Do you need to lie down?" 

"No, no." Chaeyoung scratches her cheek. "I'm okay here."

"If you say so." The teacher continues to hover, as if trying to decide what on earth to do with her. She must've made up her mind a moment later because she adds, "There's another student here with me. Maybe you'd like to keep both of us company?" 

Chaeyoung glances at her classmates again. They seem stuck in their own world, not paying any mind to the new kid who just showed up. It shouldn't hurt, especially because Chaeyoung barely knows any of them and it doesn't really matter what they think, but she can't dismiss the ache in her chest at being left out. To think that there's another student who isn't with them lights up a spark in her. This suspiciously feels like hope. 

"Okay," Chaeyoung says, taking Teacher Lee's outstretched hand and following after her. 

The classroom, when she arrived earlier, seems larger now that the rest of her classmates are outside. Round tables take up most of the space inside with stacks of books and modules, along with pencils and coloring supplies, placed on top of them. When they pass by Teacher Lee's table, Chaeyoung's chin barely reaches the surface of it. She is too short. Teacher Lee tries not to giggle at the sight. 

"Where's the other student?" Chaeyoung asks, almost grumpily, as the teacher leads her to another door in the hallway.

"She's in here," Teacher Lee answers patiently. The door is already slightly ajar so she just pushes it open. Inside, the room is packed with storage boxes and school materials, all seemingly discarded. A single window leading to the outside world is the only light source but the place is so dirty that Chaeyoung's eyes focus immediately on the dust particles floating in the air. However, the focus of her gaze shifts and she finds herself staring at the sole occupant in the room. 

A girl sits in front of a piano, her interest similarly piqued just like Chaeyoung's. She has long dark hair, pearly white skin and chubby cheeks. Her fingers are resting on the piano keys. Chaeyoung recognizes her as the girl who sat near the window during class earlier. 

"Dahyun-ah," Teacher Lee calls, "were you just about to play?" 

Dahyun pouts. "I don't know how," she mutters. Then she peeks curiously at Chaeyoung standing behind Teacher Lee. 

"Dahyun, you remember Chaeyoung, right?" 

"The new student?"

Chaeyoung's eyes are glued to the squeaky clean shoes Dahyun is wearing. Something that suspiciously feels like jealousy starts in the pit of her stomach. She forces it down. 

"Hi," she says shyly. 

Dahyun offers her a gentle smile. "I'm Kim Dahyun," she greets, bowing deeply. 

Chaeyoung returns the bow. “My name is Son Chaeyoung.” 

Teacher Lee crosses the space between the door and the piano. She lays a gentle hand on Dahyun’s shoulder, kneels down, and asks, “Did you want to play?” They seem to be friendly with each other and Chaeyoung can’t help but feel like she’s intruding in something she shouldn’t be. Dahyun’s brown eyes—seemingly golden when the sunlight hits them just right—are adoring as she looks up at the older woman. 

“I want to play like you,” she says. 

“It will take time and practice,” Teacher Lee tells her. She gestures for Chaeyoung to come closer, which the child does so obediently. “Learning how to play an instrument is like watching over a plant. Or creating art. Or even loving somebody. You have to put a lot of time and effort in cultivating it.”

“What’s _cultivating_?” Chaeyoung asks with a slight frown. 

“It’s like,” Dahyun begins, waving her hands in the shape of a circle, “taking care of something.”

“Oh.” 

Teacher Lee nods seriously. “It’s difficult to get started on something new,” she informs them, “so I don’t want you to be disheartened if you don’t get it right the first time.” Then she rises to her feet and plays a few notes on the piano. Even though it’s only for a brief second, Chaeyoung’s ears tingle at the sound. Dahyun seems fascinated, her eyes widening and her lips splitting into a broad, toothy grin. 

“I’ll teach you some notes after class, Dahyun-ah, if that’s what you want,” Teacher Lee adds with a soft smile.

Then the teacher fixes Chaeyoung with a steady look, almost as if she’s sizing her up. The young girl unconsciously straightens her back, lifts her chin up to display a look of determination. But she’s not sure what’s being sized up for. All she knows is that she wants to be capable of being taught something as valuable and important as playing a piano.

“What about you, Chaeyoung?” 

Chaeyoung’s frown deepens. “What about me?”

“What do you want to do?” 

At such a young age, Chaeyoung cannot possibly fathom the weight of those words but she feels her shoulders tighten just the same. “I like drawing,” she mumbles shyly, noticing Dahyun watching her from the corner of her eye. 

Teacher Lee hums. “Unfortunately, I’m not skilled with drawing.” She makes her way to one of the storage boxes and pulls out what seems to be a drawing book filled with blank pages. “The school has a surplus of these just lying around. Don’t tell them I gave you one, though.” 

Chaeyoung’s heart stutters inside her chest. She’s never been given anything that was her own. All that she has back in her house either used to belong to her relatives or were bought from people who already had something cleaner and better and were just looking to dispose of a couple of things. Her family isn’t rich. This became painfully obvious to Chaeyoung when all they could scrape together for her seventh birthday was a single candle topped on a round moist cake and a scarf her mother had woven herself. 

“Unlike an instrument,” Teacher Lee begins when she realizes that Chaeyoung is too choked up to even mutter a _thank you_ , “art requires only your imagination.”

As Chaeyoung accepts the drawing book from the teacher, Dahyun says, “I think I have some extra crayons in my bag, if you want to get started right away.” The words are offered casually. Chaeyoung doesn’t realize it then—only a few years down the road when she’ll think back to this precious moment like piecing together a Rubik’s cube—that the drawing book isn’t the only gift she received that day. 

_nine._

The first time Dahyun gives her a birthday present, Chaeyoung is so surprised all coherent thoughts and the ability to speak are abruptly thrown out the window. It happens so casually too, just like when they met for the first time—a light tap on her shoulder, a broad smile and then a carefully wrapped present being placed gently into her empty hands. 

“Happy birthday, bro,” Dahyun coos. 

Chaeyoung stares at her best friend, mouth hanging wide open. She cannot find the right words to express her disbelief or more importantly, her gratitude. Dahyun is waiting patiently for her to open the present. The two of them are sitting in the storage room, where the piano Teacher Lee introduced to the two of them sits, forgotten and discarded, had it not been for them both. Dahyun can’t play as well as the teacher, of course, but Chaeyoung still thinks she’s amazing.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” she mumbles after a minute has passed.

Dahyun’s eyebrows knit together. “But it’s your birthday,” she says, “You’re _supposed_ to get presents.”

Chaeyoung knows but she feels guilty already. “I just…” She clears her throat, feeling the back of her eyes burn with unshed tears. “I don’t think I deserve to get one.” 

“That’s dumb.” Dahyun reaches over and pokes Chaeyoung’s forehead with a finger. “You’re my best friend. I want to give you a present.”

Chaeyoung uneasily looks down at the box in her hands. As Dahyun continues to stare at her, the guilt in her stomach grows. Surely, her best friend must realize that Chaeyoung possibly cannot pay her back for this? Dahyun’s own shoes are worth more than her entire wardrobe, after all. But Dahyun doesn’t seem to care about that. All she wants is to give Chaeyoung a present.

Finally, after what feels like forever, Chaeyoung relents. “Okay,” she says. She slowly tears through the wrapping, carefully peeling it off at first before Dahyun urges her to be quicker about it. With a roll of her eyes, Chaeyoung finally finishes through the first layer of protection, finding herself face-to-face with a rectangular box. 

“Can I shake it?” she asks. 

Dahyun’s mouth curls into a grin. “Yeah, of course.” 

Chaeyoung lightly rattles the box. She can’t hear anything. With a look sent to her best friend’s way, she finally scratches off the tape keeping the cover on and peers inside.

Her heart jumps to her throat. 

Inside the box are three sketch pads with a handwritten letter sitting on top of them. She picks up the letter first, taking note of its thick content. When she looks back up at Dahyun, she sees that her best friend’s cheeks have turned pinkish. “Ah,” she says, “don’t read that here. You should check that out when you get home.”

Chaeyoung nods. This is not the time and place to make fun of such a heartfelt gesture. She sets aside the letter in her bag, making sure that it doesn’t get crumpled. Then she turns to the sketch pads. They’re of the highest quality. But that’s not all. Underneath them, Chaeyoung finds a pack of colored Faber Castell pencils. 

It is too much. She can feel her lower lip wobbling. Tears sting the back of her eyes. 

“Bro,” she mutters, “you really shouldn’t have.”

Dahyun shrugs. “I wanted to.” Her voice, just like her gaze, is steady. “Please accept it.” 

There are not enough words in the entire world to explain what is going through Chaeyoung's brain. This is not the first gift she received that is hers alone—thanks to Teacher Lee—but this is the first one that Dahyun has presented as a birthday present. A gift for being born. _You're_ supposed _to get presents._ Dahyun doesn't expect anything in return. This one is special because it came from her best friend. 

Without warning, Chaeyoung flings her arms around Dahyun and pulls her close. The other girl makes a soft noise of surprise before she laughs and returns the hug. They fit together perfectly, like puzzle pieces falling to their respective places. Chaeyoung breathes in the scent of Dahyun's hair and it reminds her of spring. 

"Thank you," she murmurs against Dahyun's neck. 

"Yeah, of course." Dahyun tightens her grip. "I'm glad you like it." 

_eleven._

"How did you do that?" Chaeyoung asks, sounding like a petulant child (because she is) as she watches Dahyun ride around the neighborhood on top of her cool-looking bike. 

"Practice," Dahyun replies with an easy grin. 

The two of them are standing outside Chaeyoung's tiny apartment. It is a Sunday, which Dahyun immediately dropped by after attending church. This time, she came with the bike she just got for her eleventh birthday. Now Chaeyoung is watching her with envy. This isn't a new thing though. 

"My parents told me that I could bring it here if I showed them that the piano lessons were paying off." Dahyun's cheeks are flushed with exertion. She's been driving around nonstop, endlessly teasing her best friend. 

"No fair." Chaeyoung crosses her arms, leans back on the wall behind her. "I never had a bike."

Something shifts in Dahyun's expression. She pauses and then redirects the bike to where Chaeyoung is sitting. Then she hops down from the seat and offers the handlebars to her best friend. 

"Let me teach you," Dahyun says with a bright grin. 

Chaeyoung narrows her eyes. "I don't want you to pity me," she grumbles. 

"What makes you think I'm pitying you?" 

They've been best friends for three years now. Chaeyoung has learned everything about her best friend, especially when it comes to her facial expressions. Dahyun doesn't like to talk much about herself but years of practice has taught Chaeyoung what to look for. When Dahyun is sad, she tries to play it off with a fake laugh. When Dahyun is flustered, her cheeks turn red—unmistakable against her pale skin. When Dahyun is upset, tension darkens her eyes and hardens her jaw. But when Dahyun is pitying, there is a noticeable crease between her eyebrows as she holds Chaeyoung's gaze with her own. 

"You're my best friend." Chaeyoung doesn't move. "I know you." 

"Maybe." Dahyun's mouth curls into a soft smile. "There's just a difference between pitying you and wanting to help you out. So, are you going to let me teach you how to ride a bike or are we just going to stand here all day?" 

A beat passes.

Chaeyoung sighs, reaches up, and takes the handlebars. "If I fall and hurt myself, it's on you." 

"Don't worry." Dahyun looks amused. "I'm not going to let you fall." 

_thirteen._

"Your birthday is coming up soon." Chaeyoung squints at her best friend, who is busy answering her homework. "Is there anything you want?"

Dahyun hums, eyebrows drawing together. "What I want," she says with a somewhat finality in her voice, "is something that cannot be given." 

Chaeyoung throws a pillow at her face. "You're no fun."

The two of them are in Dahyun's bedroom. It is a school night. They have homework that they need to get done in a hurry if they want to watch a movie later. Chaeyoung is sprawled on the floor, surrounded by textbooks and modules. She cranes her neck to find Dahyun smiling down at her. 

"I'm serious," Chaeyoung says, "Is there anything you want? It doesn't have to be something that I can buy. You know I don't have much anyway." Because Chaeyoung really can't afford anything else, she always tries to make up for it by giving Dahyun drawings, cooking her food and even just spending an entire day with her. Dahyun never asks for anything else, content with her offering.

Dahyun gives her a fond look. "I don't really want anything," she says, "I just want to hang out without worrying about homework." 

Chaeyoung snaps her fingers and makes a sound that is similar to an explosion. "Consider it done." Dahyun giggles. 

But Chaeyoung isn't done yet, staring at her best friend like she'll magically read her mind. Sometimes, Dahyun feels like a closed book with an intricate lock and a key that has been thrown carelessly away. If somebody wants to know more about her, then she'll have to find other ways. 

"Are you sure you don't want anything?" Chaeyoung asks with a small frown. 

Dahyun glances back at her again. The smile hasn't wavered. "I already have everything I could possibly want," she answers, eyes sparkling. There is no lie detected in her voice. 

Chaeyoung knows when a dead-end has been reached. Maybe she'll try again tomorrow. 

_fifteen._

A clock ticks. 

Tearing her gaze from her sketchbook, Chaeyoung looks up to see Dahyun watching her carefully from her position under the shade of the tree. The sun is hidden behind an array of clouds behind the sky, providing enough warmth to make the air crisp and fresh but not too much that their skins feel like boiling over. The sound of the ticking clock comes from Dahyun’s watch, wrapped around her left hand that is currently tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear. Chaeyoung finds herself watching the movement carefully. 

“What are you drawing?” Dahyun asks. 

The two of them sit in a large field overlooking the large mansion that belongs to the Kims, which is isolated from other neighboring subdivisions. Dahyun lives a long way from the public school they still attend together so she has a personal driver to fetch her when classes end. But once they start high school, Dahyun will be attending a private school which is closer to her address. She’ll still need a designated driver, of course. But then she won’t be able to pick Chaeyoung up on the way to their school. Not to mention, they’ll be seeing less of each other. 

Chaeyoung looks down at her sketch. Unconsciously, she drew Dahyun. It’s clearly her, judging by the long dark hair swept over one shoulder, the sparkle in her eyes when she’s happy, the sharp curve of her nose and the small lips that are curled into a smile. “The usual,” Chaeyoung answers, flipping to another page before Dahyun can see.

Thankfully, the other girl doesn’t push it. 

It’s Saturday. Chaeyoung likes to spend her weekends at Dahyun’s place. Her house always seems too small when her parents are home. Sometimes, the desire to have her own breathing space trumps the desire to spend time with her family. Besides, Dahyun won’t be around as much as before. Chaeyoung is trying to make use of the time they have left, even if it isn't much. Just a couple months left before high school starts. At least they’ll still have the summer together. 

The thought saddens her but she tries not to show it. The first time Dahyun told her they wouldn’t be attending the same high school together, she had spent _weeks_ moping in her classes, using a depressing shade of blue as the main color to her paintings, and forcing a smile each time Dahyun gave her a worried glance. 

It’s hard having only one best friend. Especially when that best friend has everything you can never have. 

Chaeyoung hears the ticking of the watch again. Her own wrist feels empty.

“Are you staying for dinner?” Dahyun shifts her weight, breaking the calm between them. “I think the chef is going to make your favorite.”

“Can’t,” Chaeyoung answers, “My parents want me home early.” 

“Okay.” The other girl sounds disappointed but when Chaeyoung looks at her again, Dahyun is wearing a smile. “Tell them I said hi, by the way.”

They spend their weekends sitting on top of this hill, watching the rest of the world go by in slow motion. Chaeyoung puts away her sketchbook, lies back down on the grass, and squints at the rays of sunlight peeking through the branches of the tree hanging over them. When she raises her hand, she can see the black spots of lead marking the skin of her fingers. Dahyun moves as well, gently placing her head on Chaeyoung’s stomach. It’s quiet, as it always is between them. 

“I’m going to miss you,” Chaeyoung says in a halting voice. The words tumble past her lips clumsily. 

Dahyun snorts. “I was beginning to wonder when you were going to say that.” But there is affection in her tone, like she is secretly pleased. 

Chaeyoung isn’t the most affectionate person out there. Nor is she the most expressive one. She still has to pull on a brave face when Dahyun buys her a present on her birthday or when Teacher Lee sends her the occasional mail from her side of the world. Dahyun isn’t like that at all. She just keeps giving and giving. But now, it feels like she’s taking. When she leaves Chaeyoung behind to attend that elite all-girls boarding school, she will be taking a huge chunk of her best friend’s heart with her.

Chaeyoung tries to pretend that it doesn’t hurt, even though it does. It will hurt a lot more in the future but that is something she’ll have to deal with. Just like she’s had to deal with worn shoes or secondhand school materials and empty promises of doing better. _We can't afford this now but maybe next time, okay?_

“I’ll punch you if you pretend like you don’t know me anymore once you start going to that school,” she grumbles. She drops her outstretched hand, almost letting it rest on Dahyun’s hair, before she remembers the lead on her fingers. She places her hand on the grass next to her waist instead, curling it into a fist. 

Dahyun doesn’t even sound too worried when she says, “Just because we’re attending different schools doesn’t mean you’re going to stop being my best friend.” There is certainty in her voice. Chaeyoung envies it. 

“You might find a new best friend,” she mutters, already imagining it: Dahyun and another random girl—wearing that obnoxious private school uniform, having their own designated drivers, spending time on top of this hill like what they’re doing right now. Chaeyoung’s throat closes it on itself. It is too painful to even think about, like rubbing sea salt into a fresh, open wound. 

Dahyun laughs and slowly sits up. “Nobody could replace you,” she states sincerely. Her eyes—resembling black orbs under the shade of the tree—are alight with mirth. 

When Chaeyoung doesn’t respond, Dahyun adds “you’re my best friend” in the softest voice imaginable. Silence, except for the ticking of the watch and the cool breeze the wind brings. Chaeyoung closes her eyes, tries not to imagine a future where Kim Dahyun isn’t by her side, and fails. Not because she can’t, but because she doesn’t want to. Like trying to imagine the harsh, biting cold of winter when you're still in the middle of spring. Why would she when everything she could possibly want still sits in the palm of her hand? 

“You’re mine too,” she murmurs.

She knows, without having to open her eyes, that Dahyun is smiling. 

_seventeen._

Dahyun has gotten better at the piano. 

Teacher Lee— _Sunmi-unnie_ , she had asked them to call her after she stopped teaching and pursued a modelling career—claps her hands when Dahyun finishes playing. "That was beautiful," she says, her cheeks flushed with pride, "You're taking lessons, right?" 

Dahyun drops her hands from the piano keys. "Before," she answers with a shy grin, "but I don't need them anymore. I can play a song just by listening to it." 

"That takes talent." Sunmi is smiling broadly now. "I'm happy you cultivated it well." Then she fixes her gaze on Chaeyoung, who is sitting on the couch with her sketchbook in hand. Each time Sunmi comes home, she always brings it with her. She wants to show her former teacher that she cultivated her talent too. 

Without another word, Chaeyoung offers her sketchbook with a light bow. Sunmi laughs, accepting it. "You don't have to be so formal with me, Chaeyoung-ah," the older woman says, "I consider you both my little sisters." 

The words are enough to get both Dahyun and Chaeyoung to blush. Sunmi opens the sketchbook delicately, turning each page with careful fingers, like she's holding a priceless artifact that will crumble at the slightest intake of breath. Chaeyoung watches her face mostly, staring at the relaxed tilt of her eyebrows and the gentle smile that graces her lips. She doesn't look at her sketches or her drawings, having spent many hours watching them bear fruit from her own lead-marked fingers. All she wants to see is the proud expression on Sunmi's face. 

She isn't disappointed. 

"I love the colors," Sunmi tells her, eyes sparkling with pride, "They speak well." Then she proceeds to describe everything she loves about Chaeyoung's drawing, listing them effortlessly like she's filing them away in her mind palace. 

Chaeyoung listens mostly but then she feels the weight of a stare on her. She glances up and sees Dahyun watching _her_ instead of their former teacher. As Sunmi points out the tiny details in Chaeyoung's drawing of the Kim’s mansion from the top of the hill, the artist herself can't help but list a few things in her mind as well. 

"You can clearly recognize this as Dahyun's home—" 

_Eyes that resemble honey when the sun hits them just right—_

"—and the color of the grass is shaded in carefully. How long did you work on this, Chaeyoung? It's beautiful—" 

_Pale lips that spreads too thin when upset, curls at the edges when amused, widens into a breathtaking smile when deliriously happy—_

"—and _so_ full of details up close. I imagine that you must've been drawing for a long time to achieve such a close sketch—" 

_Pale, white skin that flushes a deep red when embarrassed, soft to the touch, just like tofu—_

"Chaeyoung?" 

"Yeah," Chaeyoung answers, looking away from Dahyun's stare, blinking to herself, "It did take me a long time." 

The sun is still present in the sky when they leave Sunmi's modest apartment. Because it's summer, the heat is unbearable at noon but just right once the clock hits 3 PM. Hot enough to prickle at their skins but not hot enough to _burn._ Dahyun mentions something about treating her to popsicles, which Chaeyoung accepts because her best friend will just give her one anyway no matter what she says. It’s been a while since they’ve last seen each other. Nothing has changed. Or that’s what Chaeyoung hopes for.

“How are things?” Dahyun asks as they drape a jacket on the cleanest part of the sidewalk they can find and sit on top of it. 

Chaeyoung unwraps the popsicle wrapper, mouth already watering at the bright pink color of its strawberry flavor. “Good,” she answers, “I met a cool senior the other day. Her name’s Yoo Jeongyeon. She works at the coffee shop near the school.”

Dahyun raises a cool eyebrow. “Oh, are you starting to replace me?” 

“Please.” She feels too warm somehow, despite her lips numbing over due to the cold. She scratches at her cheek, the sugar sticky on her fingers. “You’re irreplaceable.” She rarely says all these mushy stuff out loud but it’s been a while since they’ve seen each other.

The smile on Dahyun’s face is worth it, though. 

“How’s Mina?” 

Mina is the girl Dahyun immediately befriended when they first met at the stupid private school. Chaeyoung hasn’t met her yet. She’s not sure if she wants to meet her replacement. 

“She’s nice,” Dahyun answers, “I think we’re going to be in the same class again.”

“Isn’t that a lovely coincidence,” Chaeyoung comments. Her voice sounds too chirpy even for her own ears. 

The sugar is trickling down Chaeyoung’s arm, already melting under the summer heat. She wipes at it with her fingers, engrossed in her task. Dahyun’s gaze on the side of her face doesn’t go unnoticed. Her chocolate popsicle is also slowly melting. 

“I’m sorry we haven’t seen each other much,” Dahyun tells her softly. 

“Bro, it’s okay.” Chaeyoung cracks a grin. “It is what it is.”

Dahyun sighs. “If it makes you feel any better, things just aren’t the same without you either.”

The breeze picks up, cooling them for a brief moment. Chaeyoung watches as the bottom part of her popsicle melts and crumbles onto the pavement beneath them. It is quick to turn into pink liquid mush. She toys at it with her shoe, mixing it together with the dirt. Now it just looks unappetizing. 

She wants to say many things to Dahyun while she still can, while they’re still together under the sweet summer day. And yet, the words get stuck in her throat. How long has it been since they last saw each other? A few months? Half a year? But they talk every day, the sound of Dahyun’s voice in the phone pressed against her ear is a much needed comfort every single night since they’ve been separated. It hurts to be without her but, as Chaeyoung slowly raises her eyes to meet Dahyun’s, she realizes that it hurts to be with her too. 

It's difficult having only one best friend who is so far out of her reach. Both literally and figuratively. Kim Dahyun can sit inches away from her and Chaeyoung will still never reach her. No matter how hard she tries. 

She stares at her melting popsicle and returns to slowly taking a bite out of it from the top. 

"I know," she finally says, avoiding Dahyun's stare, "I hope it gets easier." 

_eighteen._

In a way, it does. 

In another way, it doesn't. 

Chaeyoung is swept up in college applications, just like the rest of her classmates are. Yoo Jeongyeon, the senior who graduated as the Class Clown, gives her useful tips on how to bullshit an essay. The new school year is about to start but everybody else is already tense at the realization that they only have a year left before they're expected to make rational decisions as young adults. Jeon Somi, one of the few people Chaeyoung considers a good friend, tells her that she wants to attend college in Seoul. 

"What about you?" Dahyun asks when she brings it up over the phone. 

Chaeyoung stares at the ceiling, eyebrows furrowed together. Dahyun is on speaker so she can hear her rustling around every now and then. There are a few days left before summer begins. It feels like sand trickling down her fingers. 

"I…" Chaeyoung is stumped. "I'm not sure." 

"What about arts school?" 

Of course they've talked about Life After High School but it was always spoken with an air of nonchalance. Like it didn't really mean anything back then. But now, it's staring them right in the face. It's daunting to realize just how much time has passed in the blink of an eye. Chaeyoung can still remember her days as a child—colors spilling from her fingers, answering simple Math questions, watching Sunmi play the piano, Dahyun's hand a comforting presence on her shoulder. 

_Gone_ , like sand in her palms. Nothing is left. She only has the future to look forward to. 

"It's too expensive," she mutters. The future needs to be practical too. Chaeyoung can't afford most of what she wants anyway, which is fine. She has grown used to this fact cradled under her chin, like a sharp knife pressed against her beating pulse. 

"You can go on a scholarship," Dahyun suggests. 

"Yeah, I guess." Chaeyoung knows Dahyun won't need to think about tuition fees or consider attending on a scholarship anyway. The envy Chaeyoung felt since she was in the second grade doesn't fade. It gets easier to swallow instead. 

She decides to change the subject. "What about you?" 

Dahyun's answer is swift. "Korea National University of Arts." 

Chaeyoung whistles, feels a pang deep in her chest. "I see," she says. She doesn't say, " _That's so expensive and far away._ " She knows Dahyun knows. 

"Yeah, they have a really good music program." 

"Sunmi-unnie would be proud," Chaeyoung's voice is bright but she feels hollow inside. Another top-notch school miles away from what she can afford. It seems that Dahyun is destined to never be in close proximity to her any longer. Maybe this is an indication that her childhood friend will remain just that—a part of her childhood and nothing more. 

"Bro?" 

Chaeyoung squeezes her eyes shut. "Yeah?" 

"Are you okay?" Dahyun's voice is soft and hushed; it makes her insides tingle. 

"Yeah, bro. You don't have anything to worry about." Chaeyoung forces a smile, turning on her side so that she can stare at the wall full of drawings. She finds an unfinished one of Dahyun drinking a cup of iced chocolate and fixates on it. Sometimes, she sees Dahyun more in her sketches than in person. 

"You went quiet for a sec there." 

"Maybe I'm just tired." Chaeyoung rolls her hands into fists, takes a steadying breath. "But yeah, Korea National University of Arts. That's pretty cool." 

Dahyun laughs. "I guess you can say that." 

"You'll get in," Chaeyoung tells her confidently, "I'm sure of it." 

There is silence. The air is heavy with tension, almost as if they're sitting on the edge of their seats. Chaeyoung hears Dahyun's sharp intake of breath, like she is about to say something important, and finds herself uncurling her fists. 

She imagines what Dahyun might look like right now—sitting on her queen-sized bed, wearing silk pajamas, her hair up in a half-bun, her phone cradled against her ear. The moon shining through the crack in her curtains, making her skin glow. Eyes soft and downcast, lips twisted in a soft smile. 

"It would be nice," Dahyun finally whispers, her breathy voice making Chaeyoung shiver, "to be with you again." 

The words are spoken truthfully. Dahyun means it with every bit of her heart. Chaeyoung feels her own thundering against the inside of her ribcage, as if it has been viciously jumpstarted. _To be with you again._ Ever since Dahyun transferred, Chaeyoung has likened herself to a girl with a missing arm. She can live without it but it still won't be the same. It still won't hide the agony she feels at such a gaping loss, at the phantom feeling she still gets when she turns, expecting Dahyun to be there, only that she isn’t. She cannot stand the idea of not being with her any longer than what she’s already experienced.

The words are on the tip of her tongue—

“ _We will be_ ,” she almost says, “ _I’ll follow you wherever you go._ ” 

But then reality crashes in. Because Korea National University of Arts is in Seoul. It is the top-leading school when it comes to the arts and music programs. The tuition fee comes in rates that Chaeyoung would never dream of in her own bank account. It is enough to make her stomach twist on itself, as she remembers her worn shoes, the secondhand clothes, all the times Dahyun had to pay for her fare or her lunch or anything else in between. If she cannot be with Dahyun now, how much more in the future? When Dahyun inevitably becomes one of the most successful musicians in the world, who is Son Chaeyoung but a childhood friend looking up to her, aching to be where she is, to be by her side? No, it is impossible. And it is cruel to give Dahyun false hope, a string of empty promises that she isn't used to. Not like Chaeyoung is. 

So, Chaeyoung bites her tongue and says, “Yeah, it would be nice.” 

_eighteen._

“Dude,” Yoo Jeongyeon says, peeking into Chaeyoung’s room to find her bent over the desk, furiously writing in her notebook, “you look like shit.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” Chaeyoung looks over her shoulder. "What are you doing here?" 

"Your mom called me." Jeongyeon approaches her cautiously. "Said she was worried. You haven't been leaving your room." 

"I'm studying." 

"Yeah." Jeongyeon fixes her gaze on the stack of homework and paperwork that Chaeyoung has been going through for the past several weeks. "She told me." 

Chaeyoung drops her pen and rubs at her neck. "You know why I'm doing this," she says, "You know how important this is to me." There, right in the middle of Chaeyoung's wall, is a picture of her and Dahyun back when they were still kids—smiling toothily at the camera. It serves as inspiration to keep studying. 

Jeongyeon's eyebrows are crinkled right in the middle. "I know." She sits down on Chaeyoung's bed, watching her carefully. "I just don't want you to miss out on your senior year. You're supposed to be having fun." 

"I'll have fun when I join Dahyun in college." Chaeyoung is tired. She needs to have a good CGPA if she wants to have a shot of getting a scholarship grant. She hasn't told Dahyun of her plans. Not yet. She needs to get in first. Imagining the look of surprise on her face is enough motivation. 

"Okay." Jeongyeon looks like she wants to say something else. 

Chaeyoung sighs. "Go ahead. " 

Having been granted permission, Jeongyeon surges forward, gripping Chaeyoung's shoulder tight. "I understand that you want to be with her. Hell, I had a childhood friend too. Her name was Nayeon but she had to move far away. Not a day goes by where I don't miss her." There is sorrow in Jeongyeon's eyes. "Look, I completely get that you're doing this for your future and for Dahyun. But God, you look like you haven't slept. When was the last time you had eight hours of rest? I barely even see you around the shop anymore. Jihyo is starting to get worried.”

Chaeyoung viciously shakes her off, trembling with barely suppressed anger. "Stop it," she snarls, "If you were really my friend, you would support me in this." 

"I _am_ your friend," Jeongyeon spits, looking appalled at the blatant suggestion that she isn't, "A real friend is supposed to look out for you." 

Chaeyoung thinks of Dahyun then. _It would be nice to be with you again._ It is what keeps her fire going. She turns away from Jeongyeon, looking down at her notebook filled with formulas and equations. There is work that needs to be done. 

"I think you should leave," Chaeyoung mutters. 

"Chaengie…" 

"Just go, unnie." Chaeyoung's hand trembles as she picks up her pen again. "I'll be fine." 

_eighteen._

"Bro," Chaeyoung says, eyebrows shooting up in surprise at the sight of Dahyun waiting right outside the gates of her high school, wearing her uniform and holding her books tightly against her chest; "What are you doing here?" 

"I wanted to see you," Dahyun says, smiling brightly, "We've barely hung out ever since school started." 

"Rain check?" Next to Chaeyoung, Jeon Somi is smiling wickedly. It is almost like she knows something Chaeyoung doesn't. "I'll get started on the project without you. Text me later, okay?" 

Chaeyoung nods, not tearing her gaze away from Dahyun. "Yeah, thanks."

After Somi leaves, Chaeyoung takes her rightful place next to Dahyun's side. The two of them look odd standing together, Chaeyoung wearing the bright blue colors of her public high school with Dahyun wearing the all-black shades of her private institution. But Chaeyoung tries not to think too much about that, focusing only on the way Dahyun's gaze seems to linger on her. 

"That was Somi, right?" she asks. 

"Yeah." They begin walking, no destination in sight but still grateful to be next to each other. 

"The one who wants to go to the States?" 

Chaeyoung nods, hands shoved in her pockets. "She's pretty cool. We should hang out together sometime. You can even bring Mina along." 

"Yeah." Dahyun looks thoughtful. "Have you decided where to go to college yet?" 

"Uh." Chaeyoung scratches her cheek. She hasn't told Dahyun about her plans on applying to the same school as her. It all boils down on the entrance exam, which will take place a few weeks from now. Once she passes, she will tell Dahyun. But at the moment, it is her well-kept secret. "Not really. Maybe I'll just stay here." 

"You don't want to go to Seoul?"

"It's not like I can afford it anyway," Chaeyoung grumbles, to color in the lie. Next to her, Dahyun halts, staring hard. Her eyes have turned a dark shade of black and her lips are twisted in a frown. "What? It's true." 

"Bro…" Dahyun sighs. Her hard expression slips away. "Nevermind." 

The two of them reach a bus stop. The bench is empty so Chaeyoung sits, followed by Dahyun. The weather is nice, nearing summer already. 

"I wanted to give you something," Dahyun says. 

Chaeyoung opens her mouth, ready to reject whatever it is that Dahyun has bought because it makes her feel so guilty at not being able to give anything back, but then she sees Dahyun reach up around her neck and unclasp a chain. Chaeyoung realizes that she was wearing two sets of necklaces, hidden underneath the collar of her school uniform. 

"Here," Dahyun says, presenting Chaeyoung with a golden puzzle piece hanging from a silver chain. 

Chaeyoung's heart stutters. "What's this for?" She doesn't move, doesn't reach up to clasp the necklace in her hand. She feels like she doesn't deserve it. So, Dahyun inches closer and gestures for Chaeyoung to turn around, who obeys after a brief pause. 

"It's to symbolize our friendship," Dahyun answers her earlier question, sweeping Chaeyoung's hair to one side and circling the silver chain around her neck; "Puzzle pieces because we complete each other." She laughs, the sound as sweet as honey. "I know. It's really cheesy." 

The puzzle piece is cool against Chaeyoung's skin. Her throat tightens. "Yeah," she murmurs, holding back the sting of tears in her eyes and trying not to feel utterly overwhelmed. "So cheesy."

_nineteen._

"I didn't get in." 

Chaeyoung hears those words as if they're spoken from underneath water. She blinks, her own acceptance letter falling from her hand. Dahyun's spine is rigid, her eyes unreadable, her mouth set in a line. She sits next to Chaeyoung on her bed, looking as if she's holding herself together with a tight fist. And watches as Chaeyoung slowly crumbles. 

_It would be nice to be with you again._

"I…" Chaeyoung is _so_ confused. How didn’t Dahyun get in, while she did instead? Things are supposed to fall into place. They're supposed to be together again. 

Dahyun looks at her sadly. "I'm sorry," she says. Then, quietly, she reaches over and places her hand on top of Chaeyoung's trembling fist. "Maybe it's just not meant to be." 

_twenty._

The worst happens. 

"We're moving," Dahyun says quietly. 

Chaeyoung, who is visiting home from Seoul, stills. They are sitting on top of the hill, overlooking the Kim mansion. The leaves are orange, brittle to the touch. It is chilly too, slowly inching towards winter. But Chaeyoung feels as if she has already frozen over, the shock freezing her limbs. Dahyun doesn't say anything else, just watches her digest the news.

"I thought you were going to try the university again," Chaeyoung mumbles, the despair slowly trickling in. After not passing the entrance exam, Dahyun decided to take an off year to try again next enrollment. They’d both been looking forward to it.

"My brother…" Dahyun looks away, her jaw working. "He's going to enroll in a master's program in France. My entire family is going." 

Chaeyoung isn't used to begging, knowing her place in the world. But she grabs Dahyun's hand anyway and forces her to look at her. "Please stay," she pleads. Not being with Dahyun during high school was torture. Not being with her in college was double the pain. Now this is going to be a hundred times worse. How can Chaeyoung beat the distance? How can she keep Dahyun as her friend—no, her _best_ friend?

"You know I can't." Dahyun forces a smile. It doesn't reach her eyes. "There's a really good music program in France too. Of course I have to take some lessons but my English is passable, I think—" 

"Why can't we be together again?" Chaeyoung blurts out, her chest aching for Dahyun, even though she's still here—even though she's still holding her. "Like when we were kids? We were _inseparable._ I didn't have to ask about how your day went because I was there with you the entire time." Her throat tightens. She wants to say more. _I just want to be with you. You're my best friend. I love you. You have no idea how much I love you._

It's hard to have only one best friend but Chaeyoung wouldn't have it any other way. 

Dahyun's eyes are shining. "You know why," she whispers. 

And Chaeyoung _does._ Because she knows Dahyun better than anyone else, the same way Dahyun knows her better than anyone else too. Because Dahyun comes from a wealthy family—one that has standards and expectations which, if they are not met, has consequences. Because Dahyun cannot say no to her parents, which is why she enrolled in a private school, even though she didn't want to; which is why she didn't apply to any other school other than the best; which is why she will follow after them once more, at the price of Chaeyoung.

Dahyun has everything she could possibly ask for but not everything that she wants. 

"I'm sorry," she murmurs. And then, she lets the silence grow before she shatters Chaeyoung's heart with what she says next: "We leave after December." 

_twenty._

"This is it, huh?" 

Dahyun's gaze is fixed on the window, watching the planes take off. Her hands are shoved into the pockets of her sweater. Next to her, Chaeyoung’s own hands are balled up in fists on her lap. The airport is full of people with their family and friends, talking about all the things they’re going to do once they get to their destination and double-checking if their luggage is complete. Up ahead, Dahyun’s father is making sure everything is all set while Mrs. Kim is fussing over her son. 

Chaeyoung bumps shoulders with her best friend, who startles. 

“Think about it,” she says with a light and easy smile, even though her heart feels like it’s bleeding all over the place, “you’re going to meet a lot of cool people, learn an entire new language, and immerse yourself in a unique culture. Not a lot of people can do that.” 

Dahyun doesn’t look too convinced, eyebrows drawn together and lips twisted in a frown. “I guess,” she mutters.

This is one of the few moments that Dahyun looks visibly upset. Most of the time, she’s always happy or pretending to be. Chaeyoung doesn’t really know what to say to make her best friend feel better, especially since there’s nothing that can be done in this type of situation. So, she touches the puzzle piece necklace resting on her collarbone and says, “We’ll always be together, you know that, right?” 

Dahyun slides her gaze towards her. “You mean that?”

“Of course.” Chaeyoung grins. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.” 

“Not that I would ever want to, bro.” Dahyun turns her body so that they’re facing each other. Her eyes are shining. It’s a sign that she’s close to crying. Chaeyoung’s throat tightens at the sight. 

The intercom calls for their flight. Mr. Kim waves at Dahyun, signaling her that it’s time to go. Chaeyoung forces a smile when the rest of the family sends her a goodbye wave as well. 

“Chaeyoung-ah,” Dahyun begins, her voice dripping with sadness, “I’m going to miss you.” 

Chaeyoung’s chest threatens to cave in. “I know.” She can’t do this. Maybe she shouldn’t have gone along. She can’t bear to watch Dahyun get on that plane and leave her once again. 

Then Dahyun says something that shouldn’t come as a surprise but still makes Chaeyoung’s heart pound almost painfully: “I love you.” 

_Then why are you leaving_? Chaeyoung thinks selfishly, feeling her eyes sting with unshed tears. But she doesn’t let them fall. She doesn’t want to make Dahyun any sadder than she already is. So she accepts the words with a soft smile and a subtle nod, not noticing the way Dahyun’s breath has caught in her throat.

“I know,” Chaeyoung says, once again not noticing the way Dahyun’s shoulders slump forward in disappointment, “Of course I love you too, bro. You’re my best friend.”

“Yeah.” Dahyun looks away. “Of course.” 

The two of them embrace, hands gripping each other tight. Chaeyoung buries her face into Dahyun’s neck, pulls her close, breathes her in. There is nothing she wants more than to keep her here, right in her arms, suspended in this moment, forever together. But then the intercom calls for their flight once again and Chaeyoung has to let go. 

Dahyun smiles at her one last time before she follows after her family. 

It is the last time Chaeyoung sees her for the next several years.

_twenty-one._

It is the first birthday Chaeyoung doesn't spend with Dahyun. Before, they always made time after school to hang out and buy strawberry cupcakes and just laze around for the rest of the day. Dahyun always got her art supplies as gifts because Chaeyoung always ran out. She made sure to get enough to last Chaeyoung until the next birthday. 

But now, Chaeyoung is pulling an all-nighter on the eve of her birthday. She is swamped with college work. She doesn't even realize it's her birthday until there's a tap on her shoulder. She turns, pulling her earbuds out, only to find her roommate, Chou Tzuyu, looking down at her with concern. 

"Hey," she says, "have you eaten?" 

"Uh, not sure." Chaeyoung frowns when she hears her own stomach rumble as a response. 

Tzuyu's concern seems to deepen. It is only then that Chaeyoung realizes she is hiding something behind her. Her curiosity piqued, Chaeyoung discards her homework for the night and swivels around in her chair so that she's properly facing Tzuyu. 

"What's that?" she asks, lips spreading into a dimpled grin, "Did you bring me dinner?" 

"Not exactly." Tzuyu's dimple shows as she grins. "Happy birthday, Chaengie." She reveals what she was hiding—two boxes of different sizes, carefully wrapped and stacked on top of each other. It gives Chaeyoung deja vu to her childhood days with Dahyun, who always did the same thing even though they both knew what was inside. 

Now it's Tzuyu doing the same thing. 

"Two gifts?" Chaeyoung's heart flutters. "You shouldn't have, Tzuyu-yah." 

"Actually." Tzuyu gives her a meaningful look. "The other one isn't mine." 

Chaeyoung pauses, realizing the implication behind those words. She accepts the gifts, identifying Tzuyu's gift as the smaller one and seeing Dahyun's familiar scribble on the bigger one. Fresh from France with a loving note that says: _From your best bro, Dahyun._ She even signed it with a drawing of a tofu. It sends a rush of affection up Chaeyoung's throat. She feels choked up. 

"Wow," she murmurs, "How did she…?" 

"She contacted me a month ago to keep track of the package," Tzuyu answers with a blank expression, "Said that I had to give it to you on your birthday. It was a highly secret operation and she entrusted the best person for the job." Then she grins, seemingly proud of herself. 

The two of them laugh, used to each other's humor already. Chaeyoung runs a fond hand down the boxes, smiling to herself. Of course Dahyun would find a way to ensure that her birthday wouldn't be affected by the distance. She is truly the greatest friend anyone could ask for. It prickles her heart with longing. 

"Thank you, Tzuyu-yah." She stands up and hugs her roommate tightly. "I'm really happy." 

"Glad I could help." Tzuyu leaves her room and heads to her own, making sure to close the door on her way out. 

Chaeyoung sighs happily as she sets aside the gifts for later. She needs to finish on her work first. But as she tries to get started once again, her thoughts start to drift. What did Dahyun get her this year? Next month, it will be her birthday. Chaeyoung should get a part-time job if she wants to pay for shipping fees. France is a long way from South Korea, after all. 

She puts down her pencil and reaches for Dahyun's gift first. When she shakes it, she can't hear anything inside. Sketch pads, perhaps? Or even more pencils. Chaeyoung's lips split into a grin. Dahyun never fails to make her happy, even though she does the opposite each time she has to leave. 

With a bated breath, Chaeyoung unwraps the gift. 

Inside, she finds the usual. Sketch pads. New original colored pencils that are made in France, which she is certain must've cost more than her entire semester. But Chaeyoung's eyes are drawn to the polaroids that are placed at the bottom of the box. 

She picks one that shows the Eiffel tower and finds a message written on it: _you would've loved it here._

Another is of the canal. _It would've been an amazing day to spend with you._

The next one is of several booths lined up in the middle of the square. _Vintage stuff! I'm pretty sure you would've found something you liked. I’ll send you more pictures!_

More polaroids, more captured moments, more words of _would've_ wrapped up in longing and pain. Chaeyoung reads them all, touching each one with delicate fingers. Because this is the closest way she'll get to touch Dahyun again. The thought is like a stab to the gut. She doesn't even realize she's already succumbed to tears when a drop trickles down the picture she has in her hand—showing Dahyun smiling at the camera inside her new home in France. 

_twenty-one._

It's hard keeping in touch with your best friend, especially when that best friend is several continents away. Not even the strongest of bonds can withstand such a distance. Or the slow replies on WhatsApp or the parcels that get sent early but still arrive too late. And perhaps Chaeyoung is already so used to living without Dahyun, especially when they've been separated since high school. She has spent so long chasing after her best friend that it takes her a long time to realize that she's been chasing after smoke this whole time. Dahyun is gone. She has to accept that. No amount of studying or saving up or anything else in between can get Chaeyoung on the other side of the planet.

So, when a cute girl in her English class waits for her outside of the classroom and asks if she wants to go on a date with her, Chaeyoung accepts. 

"I'm sorry," Chaeyoung mutters halfway during their dinner at a small but respected noodle shop, "This is my first time." 

Minatozaki Sana stares at her, curious. "First time in this shop or first time with a girl or—?"

"First date," Chaeyoung clarifies. She is way too nervous. Her heart feels like a hummingbird. Sana is pretty— _so_ pretty that it feels so wrong to even look in her general direction. 

Sana's mouth drops open. "You're telling me that you've never been on a date before?" 

"Yes." Chaeyoung feels like her skin has been stretched too thin—if Sana peers closer, she'll see everything that Chaeyoung herself doesn't understand. Of course she's had her fair share of crushes. Like Jeongyeon's best friend, Park Jihyo, back when she still came around the coffee shop. But to be on a date with somebody—to stumble through something _new_ and decide if you want it or not—she has never experienced that yet. 

Sana looks like she wants to ask something important but changes her mind halfway through. "Is it up to par?" she finally asks. 

Before Chaeyoung can answer, their orders arrive. The bowl of noodles sitting on front of her is hot, steaming against her face. She knows the heat on her cheeks isn't just caused by the food that's been served. 

"What do you mean?" she asks, looking back up at Sana. 

Sana smiles, warm and inviting. “Is _this—_ “ she gestures between them “—what you expected from your first date?”

Against her better wishes, Chaeyoung thinks of Dahyun. She thinks of her long hair, now bleached yellow, her warm eyes, her bright smile, her pale skin—everything that Sana doesn’t have. Across the table, Sana’s dark hair is a contrast against the pale yellow walls behind her, her eyes—albeit friendly and curious—aren’t the same shade of hazel that Dahyun has and her bronze skin wouldn’t be able to show the obvious blush on her cheek, the same way Dahyun’s would. 

Chaeyoung shakes her head. She hasn’t spoken to Dahyun the past few weeks now. There is no need to think of her now, no matter where she goes and what she does. Because on the other side of the planet, Dahyun is moving on with her life. 

“Yeah,” she lies, forcing a smile, “it is.”

_twenty-one._

Sunmi is in Seoul for the next few days. 

Chaeyoung clears an entire Friday night to spend time with her former teacher, heart hammering excitedly in her chest at the thought of seeing her again. When was the last time they saw each other? It’s been a couple of years. Ever since Sunmi left to be a model, the only time Chaeyoung gets to see her is when her face is plastered across subway platforms or even on billboards. But now she’s finally coming home.

“ _Chaeyoung!_ ” In the back of the restaurant, Sunmi waves at her, her eyes crinkled like crescent-shaped moons. She is a sight for sore eyes, especially when Chaeyoung has barely seen anybody else from her hometown ever since she moved to the big city. 

“Unnie,” Chaeyoung says, approaching her with hurried steps. It’s like an asteroid crashing into a planet. When she flings her arms around her old teacher, Sunmi stumbles back with a startled laugh. “It’s so good to see you,” she adds breathlessly.

After they embrace, Sunmi places a hand on her cheek, looking proud. The same way she did several years ago when Chaeyoung showed her a few of her drawings. It makes her feel radiant, like there’s a mini sun inside her chest. 

“Likewise, Chaengie,” Sunmi tells her with another soft laugh. She gestures for them to take a seat and Chaeyoung doesn’t even look at the menu before she inches forward. 

“How have you been? Where did you go? I got your letter for my birthday, by the way! I really appreciated it. Thank you so much—”

“Chaeyoung-ah.” Sunmi looks so fond that it makes Chaeyoung’s heart soar. “We should order first.”

Which they do later on. But Chaeyoung is just so busy staring at her former teacher, trying to see if there is anything that marks her as different. Other than her hair color and a tattoo on her wrist, Chaeyoung finds none. The relief she feels is enough for her to question what she was so worried about in the first place. Maybe she’s just tired of seeing people leave her behind. The thought tastes bitter in her tongue. 

“How’s Dahyun?” Sunmi asks half an hour after they started catching up.

Chaeyoung tightens her grip on her chopsticks. “She’s good,” she says, even though the lie is heavy on her mind. She hasn’t spoken to Dahyun other than the occasional _hi hope u’re doing ok ive got a project to pass later_ or _im really tired tonight maybe we can facetime tomorrow?_ Unconsciously, she raises a hand to touch her necklace. 

“France is so far away,” Sunmi muses with a sad sigh, “I feel like I haven’t seen her in forever.”

Before Chaeyoung can reply, her phone lights up next to her. It’s Sana. She looks up at Sunmi, who waves at her to take it. 

“Hey,” Chaeyoung says into the phone after she walks away from the table and into the comfort room, “what’s up?” 

“ _Oh, my classes just ended. I was wondering if you wanted to catch dinner later?_ ” Sana’s voice is bright and chirpy, smooth like velvet and sweet like honey. Chaeyoung wants to drown in it but something holds her back.

“I’m with an old friend right now,” Chaeyoung replies, “How about breakfast tomorrow? I’ll cook for you.”

“ _Did she say she’ll cook for you!_ ” A new voice, one that Chaeyoung recognizes as Hirai Momo’s, Sana’s roommate and best friend.

“ _Momoring, you’re so_ loud _.”_ Sana sounds embarrassed and it makes Chaeyoung want to laugh. She doesn’t but there is a gentle smile playing on her lips when she looks up and stares at her reflection in the mirror. “ _And yes, Chaengie offered to cook me breakfast tomorrow since she can’t meet up with me right now.”_

“ _I like her_ ,” Momo says, “ _She sounds like a keeper_.”

Chaeyoung’s smile falters before it widens. _A keeper_. Her eyes fall on her necklace. _Because we complete each other_.

_Where are you now?_

_“Chaeyoung, are you still there?”_

“Yeah,” Chaeyoung answers a bit too hastily. Her cheeks are red. She feels like she was just caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to do. “Anyway, tomorrow, okay? I’ll drop by and whip something up just for you guys.”

“ _You’re the best, Chaengie!”_ Momo screams into the phone and Chaeyoung jerks back at the volume.

“ _Sorry about her.”_ Even though she is apologizing, Sana doesn’t sound too apologetic. Perhaps she’s used to this. Chaeyoung can understand. " _We're like a package deal; you know?"_

“It’s fine.” She touches her necklace. “That’s what best friends are for.”

When she comes back to the table, Sunmi is watching her carefully. Like she’s sizing her up. The same way she did the first time they met. _It’s difficult to get started on something new so I don’t want you to be disheartened if you don’t get it right the first time._

“Who was that?” Sunmi asks. 

Chaeyoung avoids her gaze. “That was Sana,” she replies.

“Sana. That's a lovely name. Are you seeing her?” 

"Yeah, you can say that." Chaeyoung can't really call them girlfriends yet. But they are _something._ Slowly becoming more. She doesn't know why it feels like she's just disappointed her dear friend. 

Sunmi doesn't touch her food, still watching her. "Do you love her?" 

Chaeyoung clears her throat, feels a blush creeping up her neck. "It's too early to say." 

"I see." A beat passes. "Does Dahyun know?" 

Sunmi sizing her up. Like all those years ago. _I wanted to learn something from you too_ , Chaeyoung thinks to herself. She realizes her true intentions now, sitting across her former teacher. She didn't really want to learn anything. All she wanted was a friend. What Sunmi offered to Dahyun back then—her promise of teaching her how to play the piano—Chaeyoung wanted it too. Because it meant a connection—something she didn't have yet. 

"No," Chaeyoung admits, playing with her napkin, "I haven't told her yet." 

"You should." Sunmi's eyes soften. "This is important. Sana's your first, isn't she?"

Chaeyoung bites the inside of her cheek, so many unsaid things slowly eating her up inside. It feels so wrong to think of Sana as her _first._ Because it doesn't feel like it. When she thinks of firsts, the first person to pop up is Dahyun. 

_My first friend. The first person who came to my house. The first person who got me something on my birthday. The first person I talk to every single morning. The first person I think of when I see chocolate or French cuisine or even somebody riding a bike on the street—_

Chaeyoung accidentally rips the napkin in half. 

_My first love._

Sunmi's voice slithers into her ear: _It’s difficult to get started on something new so I don’t want you to be disheartened if you don’t get it right the first time._ The lesson was given years ago but it's only now that Chaeyoung truly realizes the value in it. 

"Yeah," she whispers, the realization setting in slowly. She raises her head, meets Sunmi's eyes. Her heart quickens, stuck in a fight-or-flight instinct. There is something to face or something to run away from. She doesn't know what to do. "I should tell her."

_twenty-one._

Chaeyoung doesn't. 

The first time she tries, Dahyun doesn't pick up the phone. _Sorry_ , she texts later on, _I was at a friend's house._

The second time she tries, Dahyun tells her the name of that said friend. _Her name is Nayeon,_ Dahyun tells her on the phone excitedly and Chaeyoung pauses, wonders why the name sounds _so_ familiar; _she's from Korea too._

The third time she tries, Dahyun is on her laptop screen but she seems busy, reading over some music notes while simultaneously trying to listen to Chaeyoung talk about her day. The distance is really hard to get over now. Chaeyoung constantly feels like she’s trying to dance with Dahyun but they’re hearing different music and stepping on each other’s toes. 

“Dahyun-ah,” Chaeyoung begins, thinking of what to say next: _I need to tell you something, I think I’m in love with you_. But Dahyun’s hair is tied up in a bun, her reading glasses are perched on her nose, and she’s staring hard at her notes without even acknowledging Chaeyoung’s words. It makes something in Chaeyoung’s chest cave in. _What is my place in your life now_? Her worst fears have come true. She is nothing more than a childhood friend. A friend from childhood. She doesn’t have a place in Dahyun’s future.

“Dahyun-ah,” Chaeyoung repeats, a bit louder this time.

“Hmm?” 

“Can I tell you something?”

She must sound serious enough because Dahyun puts down her music notes and looks at her. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” Chaeyoung is quick to say, fidgeting in her seat. Dahyun’s gaze is intense, making her feel like she’s being analyzed under a microscope. She looks away. “Nothing is wrong.”

“Then why do you look like the time you accidentally farted in front of Jeong’s best friend? Park Jihyo, right? God, you looked like you were going to cry right there and then.”

Blushing furiously, Chaeyoung scowls. “Shut up, I thought we agreed not to talk about that anymore.”

“Talk about what?” Dahyun’s grin is shit-eating. She finally swivels in her chair so that she’s facing the laptop screen properly. Despite the pixels, the fondness on her face is clear. 

“Asshole,” Chaeyoung grumbles.

“Whatever you say, bro.”

They grow quiet. It is both familiar and unfamiliar. Because Chaeyoung doesn’t know what to say right here, right now. There is a confession lying on the tip of her tongue but she doesn’t know if it’s the right time yet. Dahyun looks tired, shadows under her eyes and a cup of coffee visible in the right corner of the screen. Chaeyoung doesn't want to add more stress on her. 

"What is it that you wanted to tell me?" Dahyun coaxes quietly. 

Chaeyoung can hear her heart pounding heavily in her eardrums. _I don't want you to be disheartened when you don't get it right the first time._ Has she ever told Dahyun she loved her? Perhaps not as explicitly as one would expect. Maybe in her letters or her drawings or her actions. But not in words. Not as much as she should’ve. And yet, this is the most important one. She missed it. She should've told Dahyun from the start. 

"I—" Chaeyoung takes a deep breath, licks her lips. Her world feels like it's shrinking until the only thing that matters is Dahyun's steady gaze on hers. 

"What is it?" 

Chaeyoung is about to say, " _I realized something while I was talking to Sunmi-unnie. I love you. I think I always have"_ but the words die in her throat when she realizes what might happen if they should ever be released out into the open. Because what happens next? Just because Chaeyoung will say it doesn’t mean Dahyun will say it back. 

Chaeyoung thinks back to her childhood with Dahyun. How Dahyun always offered what she had because she knew Chaeyoung didn't have any; how she offered so much more than colored pencils the day they first met, and even though she kept giving more as the years passed, nothing could ever replace the promise of friendship; how that promise held, despite the distance and the years and the longing that stood between them. Dahyun is Chaeyoung's first but she is also her last—the last person she talks to every single day, the last person on her mind before she goes to sleep, the last person on earth she would ever want to risk losing. Because if she loses Dahyun, she loses everything. 

Chaeyoung's heart stills. 

She cannot risk losing Dahyun. 

"I'm seeing someone," she finally says after the moment has stretched to the point that it almost feels like an eternity has passed. 

Surprise flickers across Dahyun's features. "You are?" 

"Yeah," Chaeyoung says, her voice hollow. She forces a smile. "Her name is Sana." 

_twenty-two._

“Hey, Jeong.” Chaeyoung smiles, bright and easy, when her older friend slides in the booth across from her. “It’s been a long time.”

Jeongyeon laughs heartily, reaching across the table to give Chaeyoung a high-five. “Look at you,” she coos, “Now you’re some big shot art student. You’re so fucking pretentious I need to take a picture.” She grabs her phone and snaps a picture of Chaeyoung, grinning the entire time. 

Chaeyoung only pretends to be slightly embarrassed, even though she is truly happy to see her friend. It’s been a few years since they were in the same city, after all. Jeongyeon never pursued college since her family owned a chain of bakeries in South Korea so she was always moving from one place to another. Now that she’s here, it occurs to Chaeyoung just how much time has truly passed. 

The two of them catch up over a cup of coffee and some pastries. Jeongyeon tells her that she’s going to be travelling sometime in Europe to attend a few culinary classes. Chaeyoung talks about how her classes are going. The courses are getting harder but she’s trying her best to catch up. 

“I still can’t believe you managed to snag a scholarship grant,” Jeongyeon muses, looking both proud and fond, “Last I checked, you had no plans of attending a university at all.”

“Yeah, well.” Chaeyoung takes a long sip of her iced coffee. “Things change.”

“I know.” Jeongyeon gives her a knowing look. “How’s Dahyun, by the way?”

Chaeyoung doesn’t answer for a long time, eyes fixed on the world outside the window shop. Thankfully, Jeongyeon is more than willing to wait, choosing to pass the time by eating the rest of the pastries sitting on the plate in front of her. When Chaeyoung has finally finished with her thoughts, she clears her throat and says, “I haven’t heard from her for a while.” 

Jeongyeon pauses, slowly putting down a cookie. “Really?” 

Chaeyoung tries not to think too much about it, forcing a smile that she knows is far from convincing. “We just got busy, I guess,” she mutters. 

It is far more complicated than that. The past year has yielded to some changes Chaeyoung didn’t expect coming. Slowly, over time, Chaeyoung focused more on her school work, a part-time job which she took to help pay off some living expenses and her ever-clingy girlfriend. And the eight-hour difference between France and Korea wasn’t easy to surpass. While Chaeyoung was awake and doing her best in life, Dahyun was fast asleep or pulling all-nighters to finish with her own schoolwork. Each time they got the chance to talk, it would be very brief. The usual _hey how was your day_ slowly changed into missed calls or delayed replies to text messages. 

It didn’t help that Dahyun started seeing somebody else too. 

“Oh,” Chaeyoung mumbled the first time her best friend brought it up over the phone, “you are?” 

“Yup!” Dahyun chirped, “She’s a friend of Nayeon-unnie. Her name’s Joohyun.” 

Chaeyoung wished it had been a guy instead. That would’ve hurt less, for some reason. But she didn’t say any of that out loud. Instead, she swallowed down what she wanted to say and forced herself to be happy for her best friend. Because that's what best friends are supposed to do. 

“Can you send me a picture of you guys?” Chaeyoung asked and she really shouldn’t have because she was just asking to be hurt all over again. But her request was granted. Half a minute later, she was staring at a girl who looked far prettier than Chaeyoung could ever be—a girl with long, dark raven hair, sharp cheekbones and a smile that could either cut or comfort—pressed against Dahyun like she belonged there, like she had made a home in the empty space where Chaeyoung was supposed to be.

Chaeyoung couldn’t bear to listen to her best friend talk about Joohyun so she didn’t. Instead, she found ways to seem busy, to put off the regular phone calls, to look for more jobs that would take her time and mind off Dahyun. And it helped. Slowly, the two of them stopped talking about Joohyun. But as a consequence, they stopped talking altogether. 

“That’s a shame.” Jeongyeon is staring at her. “You seemed so close.” 

“We were,” Chaeyoung answers without thinking. Then she realizes. “I mean, we _are_.” She clenches her jaw, blinks the heat from her eyes, and lets out a slow breath. The denial sits heavy on her chest.

“I see.” Even though Jeongyeon looks like she wants to say something, she doesn’t. She tactfully changes the topic and for that, Chaeyoung is relieved. She doesn’t think she can bear to spend another second mulling over what used to be hers—and what will never be hers again. 

_twenty-three._

Chaeyoung barely manages to graduate art school.

The graduation party doesn’t end until way past midnight back in her hometown but Chaeyoung heads upstairs as soon as she can, exhaustion and happiness pulling at her bones. Many of her relatives, batch mates from high school and even close friends from college are all downstairs, celebrating her triumph over the education system. But Chaeyoung is tired. And Sana senses it too because she presses the softest of kisses against the corner of her lips and whispers that she’ll handle any prying questions about her whereabouts. Chaeyoung smiles, fond and grateful, before she quietly climbs the stairs to her room, where she locks the door and sinks on the bed. 

There’s a message on her phone screen, unread and sent many hours before: _Congratulations, bro! I’m so proud of you. Sending you love from all the way across the globe :]_ She stares at it for too long, unsure of what to say, wondering if there is even anything else to say. _Thank you_ seems too polite, _I miss you_ seems too desperate, _I love you_ seems too wrong, especially when they both have people who love them too. So Chaeyoung doesn’t say anything. Instead, she shuts off her phone, rises from the bed and quietly heads over to her study table, where the picture of her and Dahyun smiling toothily at the camera is still hanging up.

She unlocks the first drawer to her right and pulls out a letter. 

_You should check that out when you get home_ , Dahyun had said years before.

Chaeyoung is home now. But at the same time, she isn’t. She unfolds the letter, taking note of the creases and lines that mark its age, and carefully holds it in her hands to make sure it doesn’t fall apart. Then she reads what Dahyun wrote to her years ago—on Chaeyoung’s ninth birthday. 

_Hi, bro! :]_

_Happy birthday!!! I’m not really good with words but I tried my best here so you’re not allowed to make fun of me tomorrow ok???_

_When we met a year ago, I didn’t think we’d become best friends. Now I can’t think of anybody else who fits the part better than you!! I know that you don’t really want me to buy you stuff because it’ll make you feel bad since you can’t return the favor but I promise you_ — _I don’t care. You’re my best friend and as your best friend, I’m supposed to make you happy for the rest of our lives! So you can count on that okay!?!??!_

_Son Chaeyoung, I, Kim Dahyun, promise to always be with you._

_Consider this as a pinky promise!_

_I love you, bro. Please have a good birthday. Stay happy always!_

_Love,_

_Dubu :]_

All that she had, all that she is left with. Words on paper. Tears in her eyes. Her heart cracking at the edges and falling apart at the seams. 

_twenty-four._

Dahyun never comes back to South Korea. 

_twenty-five._

Sana breaks up with Chaeyoung over a cup of coffee. 

“It’s not you or me,” Sana says, her gaze fixed on the surface of the table. Her hands are shaking; “It’s us. I just don’t think we work.”

Chaeyoung doesn’t know what to say, even though she saw it coming. Like train lights heading straight for her while she stands in the middle of the railroad. She could’ve done something, could’ve moved, could’ve signaled the conductor that she was there. But she didn’t. Instead, she just watched it happen—like it happened to somebody else, not her, not Sana, not what they’ve been building for the past three years. 

She picks up her cup, takes a sip and clenches her jaw at the bitterness on her tongue. She doesn’t say anything. What else is there to say? Nothing, of course. She doesn’t want to make things any worse than it already is. 

Perhaps Sana knew. 

Perhaps she knew that Chaeyoung’s heart was never hers.

Perhaps she knew that it was flung across the oceans, drowning at sea, trying so hard to desperately catch up to a girl who used to be hers but at the same time, was never hers to begin with. 

“I’m sorry,” Chaeyoung finally says. She truly is. Because Sana deserves better and it just wasn’t her. The guilt makes her sick to the stomach. She lets go of her coffee cup.

Sana smiles warmly at her, even though her eyes have dimmed. “It’s okay,” she says, leaning forward and taking Chaeyoung’s hand in hers, “We don’t always get it right the first time.”

_twenty-six._

“Chaeyoung.” Jeongyeon looks serious. “I have a question to ask you.”

The two of them are sitting on the balcony of Chaeyoung’s studio apartment that overlooks Seoul’s city lights. A bottle of fine wine sits between them. Chaeyoung’s glass is half empty. Jeongyeon didn’t even touch hers. Jazz music slowly seeps out of the speakers, soft and serene, but the silence is still heavy. 

"You sound so serious," Chaeyoung comments lightly. 

"That's cause I am, you piece of shit." Jeongyeon sighs, looking worried for a split second. It's enough for Chaeyoung to pause.

"You know you can always ask me anything, right?" 

"Yeah, yeah." Jeongyeon rubs a hand over her face, chuckling under her breath. "It's just—I'm usually the one giving you advice, not the other way around."

"Come on now, you know I give pretty shitty life advice." 

"Exactly why I shouldn't be asking you anything." After a moment, Jeongyeon finally looks at her, eyes soft and vulnerable. Her hand falls limp to the side. Under the glow of the moonlight, she looks younger, as if she is Chaeyoung's age instead of being three years older. 

Chaeyoung holds her breath, waits for the silence to be broken. 

"Imagine that there is something that you've always wanted your whole life," Jeongyeon goes on, "Something that has always been out of your reach, something that you've always dreamed of having in the palm of your hand…" 

Chaeyoung has always wanted so many things in her life. New shoes, new clothes, a new bike, even a new house. But when she hears Jeongyeon's words, she cannot help but think of Kim Dahyun. 

"But for some reason, you never seem to get it. It could be because the universe doesn't want you to or because you foolishly believe that you don't deserve it." Jeongyeon's voice is soft—soft enough to sink under Chaeyoung's skin. "I want you to imagine that. The longing, the wanting, the despairing… it sounds horrible, right?" 

"Yeah," Chaeyoung whispers, knowing that she's lived through it. 

"What if…" Jeongyeon sucks in a deep breath. "What if you could get that something?" 

The silence is heavy but Chaeyoung finds a way to push through it. "What do you mean?" she asks. 

Jeongyeon leans forward. "What if the universe gave you a second chance?" she asks, "What if you've grown up and you think you deserve that something now? What would you do then?" 

Chaeyoung's heart rattles inside her ribcage. She knows the answer without having to think about it. "I would go for it," she says, meeting Jeongyeon's frantic—almost _desperate_ —gaze, "I wouldn't make the same mistake twice." 

Jeongyeon stares at her for a moment too long, breaking apart the illusion that the question was casual. She leans back, apparently satisfied. But she doesn't smile. Her mind seems to be on other things. 

"Unnie?" 

"Hmm?" 

"What are you talking about?" 

The song changes into a mellow one. Jeongyeon sighs and then reaches for her wine glass. Chaeyoung watches her take a sip. 

"Remember that childhood friend I told you about?" 

"Yeah." Chaeyoung can't remember her name, has only heard of it in passing. She doesn't ask, not wanting to ruin Jeongyeon's reverie. 

Jeongyeon's lips finally curl into a soft smile. "I saw her again," she whispers, "The other day, while I was at the bakery. I saw her again." She turns her head so that she's looking at Chaeyoung. There is determination in her eyes. "I'm going to get her back." 

_twenty-seven._

"Where did you want it again?" The tattoo artist asks in English, holding the needle in his expert grip. 

Chaeyoung flexes the fingers on her left hand. "On the inside of my wrist," she answers. 

"Alright, this might sting a bit. Try your best not to move." He wipes the area down with a wet cloth, humming to himself. Then he carefully angles the tip of the needle on the place Chaeyoung indicated. 

Before he starts, he glances back at Chaeyoung's design, sitting on the table next to him—a drawing of a puzzle piece similar to the one she always has around her neck. But the necklace is now safely tucked away in the bottom drawer of her desk back in her apartment. It has not seen the light of day for a while now. 

Chaeyoung squeezes her eyes shut and holds her breath once the pain flares up. This is nothing new. She has already felt this before. 

_twenty-eight._

"Thank you all for coming to my engagement party," Jeongyeon announces, sweeping her arms around the venue, "This is really just a small get-together but I'm happy to see so many familiar faces." She even shoots a wink at Chaeyoung standing at the very back of the crowd, holding a glass of champagne in her hand. 

Chaeyoung just arrived, having come straight from the airport after being in the States for several months. She's been working on numerous projects and talking to directors and producers regarding creative designs for their movies, films and other media-related business. It's been a while since she was back home but now that she's here, it takes her a moment to realize just how much and how little has changed over time. 

Jeongyeon is still the same goofy senior who makes dry jokes and pulls practical pranks. But now in her arms, she has found the love of her life—Im Nayeon, her childhood friend. _I'm going to get her back_ , she promised Chaeyoung two years ago. And she made good with that promise. 

_Im Nayeon_ , Chaeyoung thinks to herself, wondering if there's a chance…? No, that's impossible. There's no way Jeongyeon's Nayeon would be the same as Dahyun's. The coincidence would be too much. There are many Nayeons in the world. 

Besides, it's been a long time since Chaeyoung has even heard from Dahyun. She can't ask her now. At the thought, Chaeyoung touches the tattoo on the inside of her wrist. How long has it been since they last saw each other in person? Seven, eight years? And what about the last time they spoke properly? Five years? The realization makes her nauseous and she has to step away from the chattering crowd, looking for a place to breathe. 

She finds a balcony overlooking the wide, open gardens. It is quiet here, secluded from the party inside. Relaxing, Chaeyoung finishes the rest of her champagne, places it on the ledge, and leans over the balcony, breathing in the smell of wet grass. She closes her eyes and sinks into the silence. 

Behind her, there is a round of welcoming applause. The voice of the emcee is too muffled to make out but it seems that a guest has been called to perform. Chaeyoung keeps her eyes closed, wondering if she can get away with getting a few minutes of sleep while she's still in here. 

Then soft, mellow piano music flits through the air, reaching Chaeyoung's ears. Slowly, she opens her eyes. There is an ache in her chest. She reaches up and clutches at her dress shirt, wondering why it hurts so bad. Every note that reaches her ears feels like a needle is slowly being pierced into her heart. She takes a deep breath and lets her hand drop. 

The piano music ends, followed by an overwhelming round of applause again. Chaeyoung tunes the rest of the music out, wishing that she could get another glass of champagne. She thinks that it's the only thing that will help her get through this. 

Jeongyeon and Nayeon's wedding. Against all odds, those two found each other again. Even when they've already lived half of their life without the other. Chaeyoung should be happy for them and a part of her is, of course, but she cannot deny the rise of envy in the back of her throat. It tastes like poison. She wants what they have. 

_What if the universe gave you a second chance?_

Chaeyoung's fingers find her tattoo again, tracing its shape. _I wouldn't make the same mistake twice._ But how does the universe decide if you're worthy of a second chance? She doesn't know. She wishes she did. 

She wonders how Dahyun is. Is she still with Bae Joohyun? When did she graduate? Where is she now? Is she happy? All these questions have piled on top of each other across the years, leaving no room for answers. Chaeyoung wonders where it all went wrong and why it even did in the first place. 

She should get back to the party now. Jeongyeon will be wondering where she is. Plus, she thinks it's finally time to meet Im Nayeon. And who knows? Maybe she'll find another familiar face in the crowd again.

As she turns away from the balcony, her eyes fall on the figure standing by the open doorway, apparently waiting to be acknowledged. She freezes, her heart jumping to her throat and her limbs locking in place. It feels like time has stopped altogether. Or maybe it is just starting again, the clock finally turning its hand after eight years apart. Whatever the case, Chaeyoung nearly trips on her own two feet, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open. 

"Dahyun-ah," comes the breathless whisper that slips past her lips. 

Dahyun looks exactly the same, like nothing has changed at all. Her hair is back to its natural dark color, her eyes the same warm shade of hazel when the light hits them just right, her thin lips curling at the edges, brimming with affection. She is wearing a white strapless dress that shows off her pearly white skin. When Chaeyoung raises a hand to rub at her eyes, she half expects Dahyun to disappear in a puff of smoke. 

"You look like you just saw a ghost," Dahyun comments with a light laugh. 

"Sorry." Chaeyoung blinks. For some reason, she feels underdressed in her suit. "It's just… wow, I haven't seen you in, what—?"

Dahyun's answer is swift but softened with sadness, "Eight years." 

"It's been so long." Chaeyoung leans back against the ledge, pressing a hand on her forehead. She thinks she's going to pass out. Her legs feel weak. 

"I know." Dahyun approaches her slowly. 

It grows quiet again, like the reality of the situation is slowly sinking in. Chaeyoung has long since accepted that she has lost her best friend over the years, due to the distance and her own selfishness. But to finally see that truth right now, staring right at it face-to-face—it is almost unbearable. The sum of all her mistakes, the catalyst of all her regrets, everything she has ever wanted and lost in the blink of an eye—it is all Kim Dahyun. 

Chaeyoung doesn't know whether to cry in agony or laugh at the irony. 

"Why are you here?" she asks, the wonder in her voice softening the blow of her words, "Jeongyeon didn't mention you coming." 

Dahyun shrugs, smiling coyly. "She didn't know I was friends with her fiancé." 

"Her Nayeon…" Chaeyoung pieces it together slowly, "...is the same as _your_ Nayeon?" 

Dahyun nods. For some reason, she doesn't seem angry or upset at what their friendship has become. Instead, she looks sincerely happy to see Chaeyoung. Like only mere weeks have passed and not eight years, like this is what she's been expecting all along, like she has been looking forward to this moment for a long time. 

"The world works in mysterious ways, right?" she says, still smiling. She steps next to Chaeyoung casually, taking her rightful place beside her in the balcony. 

Chaeyoung has so many questions that she doesn't even know where to start. "Was that you playing the piano?" 

"Yeah, Sunmi-unnie would be proud, huh?" Dahyun puffs up her chest, the same way she always did when their former teacher was mentioned. She always looked up to Sunmi. It’s a relief to know that some things haven’t changed.

And yet, it is _so_ familiar—Chaeyoung can't stand it. _Don't pretend like everything is still the same_ , she wants to say, can even imagine the tremble in her own voice if she does so; _we're not the same people anymore._

But the smile hasn’t faded from Dahyun’s lips. "How are you?" 

Chaeyoung unconsciously touches her tattoo, pulling her sleeve down so that Dahyun won't see. “I’m good,” she answers shortly. 

“I’m glad.” And Dahyun does seem glad, if the smile on her face is anything to go by.

Chaeyoung finds herself staring a bit too hard, trying to catch anything that may tell her otherwise. She has always prided herself in knowing Kim Dahyun inside out but now that the years have gone and time has washed away the strong bond they used to share, she can’t help but wonder if the person standing before her has become a stranger now. And if she is, it would completely shatter Chaeyoung’s heart into a million pieces. 

Finally, a crease appears between Dahyun’s eyebrows. "If you stare at me like that, bro, I'm going to think that there's something on my face,” she jokes before the smile quietly dims, “Is there something on my face?" 

The term of endearment breaks through the tension in Chaeyoung's shoulders.

"No," she says, finally allowing herself to smile wistfully, "you just… You look beautiful, as always." 

The faintest of blushes appear on Dahyun's cheeks but it's still visible due to her pale skin. "Thank you," she murmurs, "You don't look so bad yourself, Chaengie." The sight of her growing smile is enough for Chaeyoung to fall in love all over again. 

Perhaps she never fell out of it in the first place.

The entire scene is straight out of a romance movie. Two childhood friends reuniting under the beautiful glow of the moonlight in a balcony overlooking the gardens. Chaeyoung can also imagine the ending already, if the universe chooses it to be happy. A declaration of love, lips connecting, arms circling around the other's waist, the promise of forever in the air. It is what Chaeyoung wants, what she has been waiting for. 

It is not what she deserves.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers instead when the silence starts to suffocate her. The guilt and sadness for the past several years resurfaces and she finds herself drowning in it. She remembers the last time they saw each other—her promising Dahyun that she couldn't get rid of her that easily. And yet, she had. 

Dahyun turns her gaze sharply towards her, her lips twisting into a confused frown. "For what?" 

"For not keeping my promise," Chaeyoung confesses, closing her eyes as the guilt rolls over her once more, "I told you that I would always be with you." 

"Chaeyoung-ah… you don't have to be sorry for anything." Dahyun steps closer. "If you're sorry for that, then I should be sorry too. Because I was the one who left." Her voice shifts, revealing the sadness lying underneath the words. "I was always the one leaving." 

"That doesn't mean I should've too," Chaeyoung argues. 

"I don't hold that against you," Dahyun quietly says and Chaeyoung opens her eyes to look at her again. 

Dahyun looks so beautiful under the moonlight. Like a goddess. Like Artemis, even. Goddess of the moon, of the hunt. A long time ago, she captured Chaeyoung's heart in her hands when she offered those colored pencils. Maybe it wasn't a gift. Maybe it was an exchange of goods. She hasn't returned it ever since. Chaeyoung's chest aches, wanting to ask for her heart but knowing that she wouldn't want it back anyway. 

_Imagine there is something you've always wanted your whole life,_ Jeongyeon had once said. 

Chaeyoung doesn't have to imagine. 

It's standing right in front of her. 

"You're— _were_ my best friend," Dahyun goes on. The slip-up doesn't go unnoticed. 

"You still are," Chaeyoung confesses. 

The words are heavy. Like somebody has thrown a rock in the middle of a peaceful lake. Chaeyoung observes the ripples, sees the effect it causes, watches the slow realization in Dahyun's eyes. 

"You will _always_ be my best friend and I will _always_ be yours," Chaeyoung continues, forcing a smile, "even if I haven't been acting like one for so long." 

_There._

There it is. 

The tension in Dahyun's jaw, the darkening of her eyes, the way she looks away, even if it is just for a second. She is upset. Just because she was smiling and joking around earlier doesn't mean she isn't deeply hurt by the consequences of their actions, of what has become of them. She, too, is stuck in time and the clock has just started moving again. 

"It's okay," Dahyun says haltingly and the tension disappears. She lets go. Her eyes warm. "It's in the past now. We can move forward, right? If that's what you want too." 

"It is." Chaeyoung has said all that she needs to be said. Except for one thing. 

But before she can do say the words that have been haunting her for the past twenty years, Dahyun gets to it first—

"You know, I failed the exam on purpose." 

Chaeyoung falters, her _I'm in love with you_ falling back into her throat, swallowed by the gasp that she lets out at Dahyun's confession, years overdue. 

Dahyun is staring hard at her. 

"What?" Chaeyoung feels like she can't breathe, like Dahyun has reached over and shoved the heart she exchanged for colored pencils right in between her lungs. 

"The entrance exam," Dahyun goes on, her gaze unreadable, "I failed it on purpose." 

Chaeyoung's world feels like it's precariously tipping on its axis. One wrong move and everything she knows will fall into non-existence, straight into a black hole sucking everything in with no chance of getting it back. It would all be for nothing. She remembers the days in high school, sacrificing her time, her friends, her health—just for a chance to join Dahyun in college, where they would be reunited once more. _It would be nice to be with you again._

Was it all for nothing?

"What are you talking about?" Chaeyoung manages to say. The tattoo in the inside of her wrist _burns._

Dahyun shifts her weight. "I wanted to be with you," she says, still holding Chaeyoung's gaze. While her stare may falter, betraying the emotions she's hiding, her words are steady: "I failed the entrance exam on purpose because I didn't think you'd join me. I thought you would stay back home and I wouldn't have to leave you anymore." 

Chaeyoung's heart is painfully thundering inside her chest. God, she doesn't want it anymore. It hurts too much. She cannot bear the truth—

While Chaeyoung had been sacrificing her present to be with her best friend, Dahyun had laid waste to her future to do the same thing. 

"Why would you do that?" Chaeyoung whispers. 

Dahyun laughs. "Because I loved you," she answers, voice clear and honest. And yet, her eyes hold pain and regret.

Chaeyoung's heart stills. 

Then in another quiet whisper, Dahyun adds, "I still do. I haven't stopped." 

Chaeyoung thinks she's going to collapse. She reaches out and steadies herself on the balcony ledge. Her mind is racing, her heart is pounding, her kneecaps are shaking. She doesn't think this is real. How _can_ it be real? All her life, she has longed and ached after Kim Dahyun, majority of it without even realizing it. And here is Dahyun now—saying the same things that has haunted her thoughts for the past several years. 

_I loved you. I still do. I haven't stopped._

"You—" Chaeyoung sucks in a breath. "You _fucking_ idiot." 

Dahyun recoils, like she's been slapped. In a way, she was. Because Chaeyoung has basically taken her best friend's confession and thrown it back to her face. 

"Why didn't you fucking tell me?" Chaeyoung demands, watching several emotions pass through Dahyun's face—shock, confusion, fear; "You love me? For real? This isn't some practical joke, right?" 

Dahyun scoffs, turning her body to properly face her. "Why would I joke about something as important as this?" 

It feels like there's a hummingbird stuck in Chaeyoung's throat. "Because you can't love me," she mutters, placing a hand on her forehead to soothe the incoming headache she feels, "You just can't." 

Disappointment and pain flickers in Dahyun's eyes—similar to the one she wore the last time they saw each other back at the airport eight years ago.

"Why not?" she asks quietly, "Why can't I love you?" 

"Because that would mean it would all be for nothing." Chaeyoung takes a shaky breath. "We would've suffered for nothing." 

The silence that follows is deafening. 

"Does that mean…" Dahyun's breath hitches in her throat. Her eyes are wide with disbelief. When she speaks again, her words are shaking; "Does that mean you feel the same way?" 

"Yes." Chaeyoung feels like crying—out of anger, out of frustration but most importantly, out of _relief_ —so she does, her tears quickly spilling out of her eyes. She raises a hand and stubbornly wipes them away. "Yes, you fucking _dumbass_ ," she continues, voice rough and breaking at the edges, "Of course I love you. I think I've always been in love with you. That's why I studied so damn hard for the entrance exam. Because I wanted to be with you too." 

The silence grows and grows—stretching to the point that it feels like they're going to be swallowed whole in its deafening crescendo. Then Dahyun rushes forward, flinging her arms around Chaeyoung's neck and pulling her flush against her body. The silence shatters and Chaeyoung hears her own sob rip through her throat as she too holds tightly to the best friend she's been missing for so long. 

"I'm sorry," Dahyun says, trembling against her, "We could've had all the time in the world." 

Chaeyoung does not think of missed opportunities and failed confessions. She does not think of the years that have passed. She does not think of the pain, the agony, and the longing that have transpired throughout the course of their friendship. All that matters is Kim Dahyun—finally back in her arms once again, after eight years apart. She buries her face against her best friend's neck and doesn't let go. She won't make the same mistake twice. 

"It's okay," she mumbles, trying and failing to hold back her tears, "It's okay, we're here now. We—we—we just have a lot of ca—catching up to do." 

Dahyun nods, letting out a watery laugh. In her next words, Chaeyoung hears a promise—one that she knows they will both keep: "Yeah, we do."

**Author's Note:**

> Not opening commissions yet but I would appreciate it if you guys could support me via my links: 
> 
> Twitter: @miabasher4lyf  
> CC: @miabasher4lyf  
> ko-fi: @forbiddenquill
> 
> But comments are well-appreciated :D


End file.
